Christmas and the New Year

Christmas really sucked the time away. I’ve been running this way and that. With Charlie home, my time is not my own. It’s the old “you work from home so you can do whatever the hell you want”, except that’s not entirely true. He’s off; I’m not. Eh, I’ll do my best to juggle. It is nice having him home, though. 🙂 Christmas day found me flat on my back looking at the sky, my foot throbbing in pain. Unfortunately, the injury wasn’t from skydiving and landing wrong but from unloading the car. One moment, I had a load of boxes in my hands; the next, I was admiring the lovely blue sky above me. That is after I stopped cussing and the blue streak dissipated. LOL I rolled my foot. My ankle is okay, so that’s a plus, and I miraculously landed on the grass instead of the sidewalk. It’s slowly healing, but I still walk with a limp and the only comfortable “shoes” are my slippers or barefoot. I tried walking to the pool in flip flops today (don’t blame me I live in a place that’s warm at Christmas time), but they were rubbing my foot. I ended up barefoot over and back. How did I swim without my feet? It’s a little thing called a pull buoy. Today was IM day. What’s IM day? I’m so glad you asked. (grin) Every Monday, we swim all of the competition strokes. Those are butterfly, backstroke, breaststroke, and freestyle (aka the crawl). I thought my breaststroked was bad with the kick. HAHAHA Oh, man, without it, it was,...

Bows and Christmas

Ten or so years ago, I bought some ribbon at Costco. You know that Christmas ribbon that comes in spools of 100 ft or so. I couldn’t resist. It was sparkly and pretty, and I like my gifts to be sparkly and pretty. (This is an inherited trait passed down from my mother. So I can’t help myself. LOL) When I first purchased the two or three rolls, Charlie just couldn’t understand why I wanted to spend $7.99/roll. (It’s a girl thing… Maybe?) I’ve bought one or two more rolls over the years. I’ve also bought some huge rolls of wrapping paper at the same price. Five to ten years after buying these “expensive” Christmas wrapping supplies, I’m still using them. I recycle the bows. ( I inherited that from my mom, too.) When everyone has unwrapped their gifts, we roll the ribbon back up and store it in a box for next Christmas. My mother has a few boxes of ribbon. (She’s a ribbon addict. LOL) I have one box of ribbon. (Okay, two.) However, they are used and used and used over and over again. I save gift bags and reuse them. And I do reuse them. Honestly, rather than spending money on wrapping, I spend more money on gifts and still have pretty packages. I am not the expert gift wrapper my mom is, but I do receive compliments on gifts that I wrap. Recycling is more than just for paper, plastic, and metal. At least it is in my house....

Private North by Tess Oliver Blog Tour Stop

Synopsis: New Adult Contemporary Romance An internship cataloguing ancient pottery. A war-hardened soldier who’s impossible to resist. A priceless Egyptian artifact. And a devious scheme that is fraught with danger. Antiquities major, Auggie Stonefield, is about to experience a winter break she will never forget.   Dalton North POV: This isn’t in the book, Tess has written it just for the blog tour for us. The throbbing in my head took my mind off the relentless pain in my leg. It had become my sort of twisted way of dealing with the constant agony. Get drunk enough for a skull-pounding hangover and it dulled everything else. I made a stupid-ass attempt to mask the uneven sounds of my footsteps, but the wooden hallway floor made it pretty damn laughable. I wasn’t even completely sure why it mattered, except that I knew the girl was standing just around the corner in the kitchen. I’d heard her silky laugh twice before I’d even left my bedroom. She stood in the kitchen helping with breakfast. Long auburn hair cascaded down the back of her sweater and I could see only the side of her face as she smiled sweetly at my dad. I’d been in a desert that was so hot just taking a breath hurt, a place where you learned not to trust even your own shadow, a place that could only be described as hell, and the only way to survive the nightmare of it all was to believe that somewhere else in another place, another time, another dimension angels existed. And now I’d come home and found one standing...

Gratitude

Gratitude is a powerful gift we give ourselves. When we are grateful, it’s impossible to be unhappy. I read that in a book yesterday that’s published by Hay House. My neighbor and friend, Maru, had borrowed it from the library and let me read it. It’s true. I tested that theory yesterday. Lethargic and unmotivated, I struggled to do much. Then, I sat down and read a few entries on the power of gratitude. It lifted some of the pall. I wasn’t sprightly by any means. LOL Nor did I dance a little jig and sing hallelujah. (That would’ve been an interesting sight. Charlie would’ve thought I was crazy, er, crazier. 😉 ) The inertia that had settled itself upon me (because, you know, I’m not responsible for my moods and all — grin) abated enough for me to move forward and accomplish a few things. While I won’t be listing what I’m grateful for here, I am grateful, and I’ll continue to be grateful, even if it’s only that I breathe some days. (Actually, there may be days I wish I didn’t, but I’ll find something else to be grateful for....

It Doesn’t Feel Like Christmas

This year, it doesn’t feel like Christmas. With everything that’s been going on, it’s been really hard to get into the Christmas spirit. Charlie and I are trying for Lily’s sake, but when you are visiting the hospital every other day, and possibly every day now, it’s just hard. This is the first time I’ve ever really felt like this. Well, no, it’s been a long time since I’ve felt like this. The last was my dad’s last Christmas. That was a hard Christmas, too. I am hoping that this Christmas does not portend what that Christmas did. 🙁 The Christmas tree is up and decorated. Most of the presents are wrapped. Our yard is decorated. It’s just the Christmas cheer that’s missing. Maybe next year....